


Getting Chocolate on Valentine's Isn't as Easy as It Sounds

by Official_Biscuit_Moron



Category: Gintama
Genre: Chocolate, F/M, dumb dorks, kagura and shinpachi appear very briefly, valentine's day babyyyy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:27:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29419371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Official_Biscuit_Moron/pseuds/Official_Biscuit_Moron
Summary: “Who was that just now, Seita?” She looks around again, leaning out into the street. “Don’t tell me it was some lowlife tryna sell ya something. You didn’t take anythin’ from ‘em, did ya?”“Tsukuyo-nee!” he exclaims, his voice fondly exasperated. “I told ya this was for you!”“For me?”“Yeah!” He tries to hand it to her, but she doesn’t take it. “Stop looking around, Tsukuyo-nee. He’s already gone.”She stops. Her heart starts to beat a little faster. “He?”“Yeah! He...oh, wait.”“Seita? Who was it?”“Uhhh, oops," Seita says sheepishly. "I wasn’t supposed to say that..”/ / /Aka Tsukki gets her fair share of Valentine's Day cheer!
Relationships: Sakata Gintoki/Tsukuyo
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	Getting Chocolate on Valentine's Isn't as Easy as It Sounds

**Author's Note:**

> ahaha, ahahaha, aha, please accept the liberties i took with valentine's day traditions in japan

“Tsukuyo-nee!” Seita bellows down the hall. “Tsukuyo-nee, there’s a package for you!”

Tsukuyo sighs, putting down her fists. With an understanding smile, he girl she’s sparring with nods and goes to find another partner.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Tsukuyo calls to the rest of the Hyakka. “Keep whackin’ the shit outta each other.”

“Yes ma’am!”

As she approaches the door, she hears a soft, low voice conversing with Seita’s chirpy one. Her boots clack noisily on the wood, and the voice quiets, then stops. Seita giggles.

A cold breeze floods through the shoji when Tsukuyo slides it open—looking around, only Seita is in sight, peering cheekily at her and clutching a small pink box.

“Hi, Tsukuyo-nee!”

“Who was that just now, Seita?” She looks around again, leaning out into the street. “Don’t tell me it was some lowlife tryna sell ya something. You didn’t take anythin’ from ‘em, did ya?” 

“Tsukuyo-nee!” he exclaims, his voice fondly exasperated. “I told ya this was for you!”

“For me?”

“Yeah!” He tries to hand it to her, but she doesn’t take it. “Stop looking around, Tsukuyo-nee. He’s already gone.”

She stops. Her heart starts to beat a little faster. “He?”

“Yeah! He...oh, wait.”

“Seita? Who was it?”

“Uhhh, oops," Seita says sheepishly. "I wasn’t supposed to say that..”

Tsukuyo notes, with reluctant amusement, that Seita looks completely remorseless. He is in fact giggling once again, hand clasped over his mouth in a futile attempt at holding his laughter in.

_By “he,” did Seita mean…?_

_No. It couldn’t be._

“Alright, whatever. Give it here.”

Tsukuyo takes the box from Seita’s small hands, carefully inspecting its exterior for any funny business, turning it over in her hands. It is sort of a funny-looking box—a faded rose color, scuffed and squashed in places, wrapped liberally in pink ribbon to conceal every crease or scratch. No label, no name, only a neat bow tying the mass of paper ribbon together. The rich, cloyingly sweet smell of chocolate wafts up from the battered little box when she opens the lid. 

Studding the crumpled paper are twelve crescent moons. The chocolate is a bit lumpy, melting slightly in the warm air.

“Ohhhh, wow!” Seita says nosily, standing on his tippy toes to look into the box. “Those are really good! Hey, Tsukuyo-nee, can I have one? Can I?”

Tsukuyo’s mind is working furiously. Is it…? No. Couldn’t be. No. No way.

“My my, Tsukki! What have you got there?”

Quickly hiding the box behind her back, she whips around to face Hinowa’s knowing smile. “N-nothin’!”

“Tsukuyo-nee has chocolates!!” Seita yells, still hovering hungrily.

“You snitch!”

“Oh, how interesting!”

“’S not interestin’! It’s the least interestin’ thing there is! I’ve never been less interested!”

Hinowa rolls over, still smiling that sly smile. Tsukuyo blushes and frantically wracks her brain, turning this way and that so Hinowa’s prying eyes don’t catch a glimpse of the chocolates. “Now, who could have sent you those?”

“W-why did someone have ta send ‘em to me? Couldn’t they just’ve appeared? I think they just appeared, I think—”

“I know!” yells Seita. He’s got chocolate smeared all over his face, and grins sheepishly at Tsukuyo’s accusing look. “But I can’t tell. I said I wouldn’t!”

“What a shame,” sighs Hinowa. “Well! Whoever it was must like you quite a lot, Tsukuyo. Look at that—moon-shaped chocolates, how adorable! And they look homemade.”

“It’s not adorable! It’s gross, actually!” Tsukuyo blusters, turning once again to shield them from view.

“Hey, I’ll bet _he_ put a lot of care into those—” Hinowa smiles again, slyer than ever. “Oh. Oops.”

“ _You know too?!_ ”

* * *

Tsukuyo has made a very emphatic point about not caring about the chocolates. She doesn’t care, actually. Not at all, not one bit. It’s not like she likes chocolate, or anything. Chocolate is pretty nasty, actually. And salted caramel filling? Disgusting. Seita was the one who made her try one. She didn’t want to, not really. She wasn’t bothered.

(It was very delicious.)

(Soon after eating one, she mercilessly downed three more.)

Tsukuyo demonstrates her flippant and unbothered attitude in several ways: staring at the rapidly dwindling supply of chocolates with an incandescent blush; continuing the Hyakka’s morning workout session with such fervor and aggression that she goes through about ten different sparring partners; pouring Hinowa’s afternoon tea in a focused and elegant stream, directly onto the floor; and, of course, in her most profound act of not-caring yet, going to Kabukicho and back about five times, deciding each time, as she approached a certain street, that she had something much better to do at home.

So, it’s quite obvious that Tsukuyo doesn’t care.

There is a small problem that manages to distract her from this grueling routine. For no particular reason, actually, just on a whim, she may or may not have bought some chocolates yesterday. With no plan to give them to anyone, of course. They may or may not have been strawberry flavored. She may or may not have sprinkled a couple packets of sugar on them just to push them over the edge and into unbearably sweet territory. For no reason.

The thing is, they’re missing.

They’re not in Hinowa’s kitchen, where she thought, for sure, she had left them. They’re not in the Hyakka’s mess hall either. Nor are they in Tsukuyo’s room, nor any other place, because another thing that Tsukuyo did today was turn all of Yoshiwara upside down looking for them.

She concludes, with a foolish-feeling hope, that Seita must have eaten them.

* * *

Golden afternoon is turning to soft, dusky evening before Tsukuyo finally works up the courage to complete her sixth journey to Kabukicho. After only a step onto his street, her back is soaked with cold sweat. 

“This is embarrassing,” she mutters. “Yer gonna have sweaty pits. Pull yerself together.”

Carefully, with eyes darting and heart pounding, she makes her way to the snack bar, careful not to come within view of the entrance—then, up the sturdy stairs. Her finger hovers over the doorbell. Furiously, she wipes both hands on her kimono and repositions herself, entire body excruciatingly tensed.

With a wordless yell of frustration, the fearsome Courtesan of Death turns back the way she came and is on the first step down when the door opens behind her.

“Tsukuyo-san!” Shinpachi says. 

“Was just leavin’!” she yelps. “No worries! Just leavin’, don’t mind me! See ya!”

Footsteps pound down the hallway, then Kagura’s small orange head is protruding from the doorway as well. “Tsukki, wait!”

“Uhhh, I got urgent business! No time! Bye!”

“Tsukki!!”

“Nope! Sorry, Kagura! Bye!”

“Gin-san is working tonight!”

Tsukuyo stops in her tracks, gripping the stair rail for dear life.

“At Saigo-san’s bar,” Shinpachi adds helpfully.

“S-so?” Tsukuyo gulps, wipes her hands off again. “Dunno why I’d need to know that. Why are you tellin’ me that? Like I give a damn where he is.”

“Oh, no—no no no! I wasn’t telling you! Kagura-chan wanted to know where he was!”

“Oi, I didn’t—”

Shinpachi elbows her, and receives a hearty kick to the shins in return. Gasping with pain, he grits out, “Isn’t that right, Kagura-chan?”

“Oh.” Kagura looks at the rivers of sweat running down Tsukki’s neck. “Oh, yeah. Forgot.”

“I—I see. So you was just tellin’ Kagura where he is. You know I don’t care where he is.” Tsukuyo says, then adds, just to really impress upon them that she doesn’t care, “I don’t care, not a bit.”

“Who would care about a stinky-footed loser like Gin-chan?” Kagura says derisively.

“R-right.”

The pair stare at Tsukuyo’s back. When she casts a quick, sharp glance over one shoulder, they both start whistling and peering eagerly at their feet.

“Uh. I’ll be goin’, then.”

And Tsukuyo makes her casual and unaffected way down the last few steps, boots clicking softly on the wood. She pulls out her pipe—lights it, casually—draws a gasping, greedy breath, casually—and steps into the street. Billows of silver smoke curl and twist behind her. As she’s walking away, the kids’ voices drift out into the crisp evening air.

“Finally, our Gin-chan has an admirer who isn’t a total buffoon,” Kagura says, motherlike.

Shinpachi nods confidentially. “Kagura-chan, do you know, I thought it’d never happen. A rowdy boy like him? And yet—Tsukuyo-san is a great deal more respectable than the rest!”

“You don’t say!” Kagura hoots. “By God, we’ll have them married off by March!”

Tsukuyo takes the rest of the journey to Saigo’s bar at a full-out sprint, her cheeks furiously flushed with red.

* * *

Saigo’s bar is _packed_. 

Men trail in and out in various stages of drunkenness, escorted gently—and, in the case of especially rowdy patrons, not so gently—by a hostess or two. Loud chatter and bright lights roar out of the doors, which are constantly opening and closing in brief, bold crescendos of exuberant noise. The Valentine’s Day rush of lonely single men looks to be taking its toll—Tsukuyo sees why Gintoki would be working tonight, of all nights.

A hostess holding a brightly colored sign catches her eye where she’s lingering awkwardly around the entrance, and a large smile lights up her face.

“Oi, miss! Wanna party with some of our girls?” she calls, giving Tsukuyo a wink. “Ladies are welcome too!”

“Oh, no, uh, I’m—” the door opens again and Tsukuyo strains her neck to look inside, heart fluttering nervously. 

“Hmm?” the hostess says. 

Catching herself, Tsukuyo stops straining and instead pretends to massage her neck. “Whoo, I oughta stretch more! You wouldn’t believe the things a bad pillow can do to your neck, lady. I haven’t got a wink a sleep in years—days! Days! Uh,” Tsukuyo pivots on her heel, poised to run as fast as she can back to Yoshiwara. ”You know what? I left the kid on. The oven. I left the oven on. I should prob’ly—”

“Hold on, miss!” the hostess says hastily. “I think I know why you’re here.”

“You do?”

She nods with impressive confidence. “If you’re not here for our girls…maybe you’re looking for just _one_ girl?”

“N-no! Why would I—? No!” Tsukuyo blusters instinctively. At the hostess’s raised eyebrow, she coughs a bit. “Maybe. Okay, maybe. ”

“So?”

“Ah..” Tsukuyo feels, suddenly, incapable of forming words. She gestures vaguely at her head. “S-silver. Y’know.”

“Oh, I see!” The hostess throws out a manicured hand and catches the door, gesturing her inside with the sign. Tsukuyo steps through, feeling out of place in the sparkling, glitzy parlor. “You’ll be wanting Paako. PAAKO!”

“Gh—shit, wait, hold on—”

“HAH?!”

“PAAKO, THERE’S A PRETTY LADY OUT HERE LOOKING FOR YOU!”

Tsukuyo blushes. “Now, I ain’t all that, just—”

A bright, white, curly head bobs out of one of the booths and approaches, pigtails swinging, saying, “You sure it’s a pretty lady? Why would a pretty lady be...”

Tsukuyo has a quiet and inconspicuous coughing fit, and tries to blend into the wall.

“Looking...for me..” Paako trails off. 

Tapping her foot furiously, she looks anywhere but forward.

The woman with the sign looks between them. “What, is there a history here or something?”

“Tsuku—” Paako’s voice is quickly overpowered by a clamorous gaggle of hostesses who appear behind her, peering curiously at the newcomer. Joyously, they observe Tsukuyo’s flaming blush and begin cackling happily. 

“Ooh, Paako’s got a lady friend!” a hostess with crisp orange hair giggles.

“Shut it!! I—shut it!”

“I bet she’s blushing under her makeup, how cute!”

Tsukuyo clears her throat. “H-hey. You. You l-l-look. You.”

Frantically, Paako shoves away a couple of the women amassed around her. They go amicably, chuckling with the air of a group of ladies brewing gossip. “Huh? What is it?”

“You...you look...”

“What do I look?” Paako pushes a strand of curly hair out of her eyes. “Is my lipstick wonky? I knew I shoulda used a mirror. What are you doing here? I—”

“Pr...you look...p-pretty…” Tsukuyo’s voice mumbles into oblivion. She scratches the back of her leg with the toe of her boot.

“Oi, I can’t hear you at all. It's damn loud in here.” Paako glares around at the other hostesses, most of whom have returned to their customers, though a few are still laughing teasingly.

“S-sure is.”

“I’ve got a break in a few minutes anyway,” Paako continues. “Let’s go out back.”

“O...okay.”

Paako observes her carefully, something indiscernible in her eyes. If Tsukuyo didn’t know better, she’d say it was…nervousness?

“Okay,” Paako echoes, and takes her by the arm, skirting around tables of drunken men and laughing hostesses with ease. Practiced red smiles, elegant, sleek hair, perfect nails—all of it flashes by Tsukuyo in a dizzying whirl. She’s blinded by the dazzling chandeliers, glancing off glasses of Dom-Peri, off sparkly eyeshadow and bright kimonos. The heady smells of perfume and alcohol float through the air and laughter rings out like the sharp notes of a shamisen and Paako’s lips are painted a sugary strawberry pink, saying something she doesn’t quite catch.

They walk behind the bar, through the kitchen, out a back door, where the dark, quiet night swallows the neon lights and loud chatter of the bar. The moon shines brightly overhead.

“Tsukki...Tsukuyo!”

“Hmm, what? What? Yeah!” Tsukuyo shakes her head briskly.

“Oi, are you okay?”

“Yeah. M’fine.”

“Did you...” Paako regards her strangely. “Did you come here to tell me something?”

Tsukuyo is quite absorbed in the dim, glossy shine of Paako’s lipstick in the moonlight, but snaps herself out of it. 

“No! Uh. Wait, yeah.” She shakes her head again. “I...Well, Shinpachi and Kagura said this is where I’d find ya.”

“Snitches,” Paako mutters under her breath. She clears her throat. “Why’d you come all the way out here so late? Is something wrong?”

“No, I just...” Tsukuyo takes a deep, long breath, sweat sticking uncomfortably to her back. She definitely should’ve stayed home today. This is far too much for her heart to take. “Uh. D’you mind if I smoke? I need a breather.”

“If you need a breather, you probably shouldn’t smoke.”

“What do you know, smartass?”

Paako rolls her eyes and leans back against the wall. “Whatever. Knock yourself out.”

Tsukuyo packs and lights her pipe for what feels like the tenth time today, flicking out the flame, coaxing it to burn, grinding the smoking match to dust under one shiny, sharp boot. Her heart calms imperceptibly. 

As Tsukuyo glances over, Paako looks at her feet, then the moon. She says quietly, “Did you get any chocolate today?”

Any calming effects her pipe had on her are immediately negated as the pounding of Tsukuyo’s heart rises to her ears.

Everything quiets into a fuzzy, staticky haze. Everything except her, and...

Eventually, with great difficulty, she manages to cough out a “yeah.”

Paako’s eyes look almost black in the night, with only the smallest hint of burgundy showing through. They’re still fixed on the moon.

“Ah,” she says. “So did I.”

Tsukuyo’s worst nightmares have come true. Despite how carefully she concealed the chocolate in the darkest depths of the fridge, despite all her blustering and dodging, despite all her attempts at subtlety, those conniving villains had found her out. Hung her out to dry. 

Bared her soul to the man she loves. 

She curses Hinowa and Seita with every fiber of her being.

“A-ah. Is that...so.” Tsukuyo presses a shaking hand to her brow. “Wonder who gave ya that.”

“I wonder,” Paako says, turning her gaze to Tsukuyo. 

Suddenly, a shout comes from inside the bar. “Paako, we’re short on hostesses! Get your ass back in—”

“Shhhhh!!” Another voice hisses loudly. “Can’t you see she’s confessing? Don’t interrupt!”

Saigo’s voice rings out next. “Paako, whatever you’re doing, hurry it u—”

With a blush visible even through her foundation, Paako pounds a fist against the door, audibly scattering a cohort of eavesdroppers. “Stop listening! Nosy old bats!”

“I’m younger than you are!” A voice giggles. 

“Like I give a damn!” Paako howls. “Go back to your shmoozing!”

“Paako!” the cohort laughs reproachfully. But, there is soon a slow, reluctant retreat, with much more giggling and grumbling.

Paako turns back to Tsukuyo, face tense with embarrassment and agitation. “Those assholes. Couldn’t mind their own damn business if I paid ‘em to.”

“Are they right?” she asks. 

Her frantic heartbeat beats heavily against her ears, thick and sweet as honey.

“What?”

“Are you...”

Paako smiles widely. “Ahh, I see what you’re saying. Don’t mind them, Tsukki. They mean well, but they’re really delusional. Been watching too many rom-coms. That’s all they do, you know, is watch rom-coms, and gossip, and stick their heads up their asses.”

She’s done nothing but worry and wear herself out all day. Nothing but peak and fall, nothing but listen helplessly to her beating heart. She is tired, but oh, suddenly, so hopeful. So hopeful.

“Confessing? You ever heard anyone our age _confessing?_ Confessing is a thing of junior high school, and dumb horny teenagers,” Paako says. “One asks the other out—“I like you, Heroine-chan!”—and she’s all, “I like you too, Protagonist-kun! I’m so happy, I think we’ll be together forever!” and then they break up after a month, and that’s the way life is. That’s just the way it is. Do you get it?”

Tsukuyo sidles closer until she can count the stars in Paako’s deep red eyes, widening at her proximity. 

“Oi, what are you...”

“I get a feelin’,” she says, “them chocolates was from you.”

“Oh, you think?” Paako smiles again, flashing her teeth. “You really think a guy like me would do something like that?”

“You wouldn’t think so, now would you. But I think ya did.”

Paako steps closer, too, looking at her very, very oddly. “That’s crazy, Tsukuyo. You gotta be kidding. Have you met me?”

“You know what?" Tsukuyo says. "I think I have.” 

When Tsukuyo smiles, it’s soft, and she doesn’t look away for a moment. This close, she hears Paako’s quiet, sharp inhale. A strange sort of confidence has filled her chest where nervousness used to be. 

“You—And you’re not—” Paako gestures vaguely. “You’re not-?”

“I’m not what.”

Paako presses her eyes closed, crosses her arms tightly over her chest. “You’re—a pain in the ass, is what you are.”

Tsukuyo thinks on that for a moment—then, her eyes widening, coughs. 

“What?”

With her newfound confidence bolstering her, she mumbles, “I could be a pain...in _your_ ass.”

Paako just looks at her, dumbfounded.

“Oh God.” Tsukuyo slowly covers her face with both hands. It’s true _,_ she thinks. The bigger they are, the harder they fall. Or. Well. The better Tsukuyo feels, the harder she bombs. “Why did I say that.”

“Uh, Tsukuyo.”

“No. Don’t look at me.”

"Hey."

"No."

“You’re burning your hair off.”

“What?!”

Paako pulls the hand still holding her pipe away from her face and pats down the smoldering bit of her bangs. Their hands fall in between them, intertwined. Suddenly, Paako snorts, then starts shaking with laughter.

“You just said, ‘I could be a pain in _your_ ass,’” she chokes. “What the hell? Did you think you were being cool? Did you think that was slick?”

“Piss off!” Tsukki yells. “Yer not any better! Mumblin’ and mutterin’ about rom-coms and high-school confessions! Who do you think you are?”

“I’m never gonna let you forget that,” Paako says, her eyes scrunched up with mock maliciousness. “That’ll be on your headstone. ‘Tsukuyo. Died. Could be a pain in your ass.’”

“O-only if you’re buried next to me!”

“Oi, what? Do you just have creepy, nonsensical pick-up lines ready to go at all times?”

“Quit it! That one was sorta sweet!” The warmth of Paako’s hand is pleasant, heavy, in her own. There is nothing delicate or soft about the callouses texturing their palms, but everything in the way that Paako’s lips are still quirked up at the edges no matter how much she tries to flatten them out.

“You’re not very good at this, are you,” Paako says, eyes twinkling with stars and moonlight.

“Yer not so great yerself. Dumbass.”

“You...probably guessed I gave you those chocolates.”

“I bet Seita told ya the strawberry ones were from me.”

“He spilled to the brats, and they told me,” Paako says. “I guess I believed them.”

“Well, now I’m tellin’ ya, too,” says Tsukuyo. Her cheeks feel hot again. “So.”

“So?”

“You oughta get back to work.”

Paako’s fingers tighten on her hand. “I don’t know, Tsukki. I’m kinda known for slacking off.”

A breeze whistles through the thin alleyway, pushing Tsukuyo’s bangs into her eyes. She sways a bit closer.

“I suppose you are,” she breathes. Paako’s eyes are dull and fishy and flecked with crimson.

They both lean in.

“Paako!” someone at the door bleats. “Paako, your break was over ten....oooooh.”

“You fucker!” Paako yells. Tsukuyo bangs her head against her fist.

“Ahaha, oops! Sorry, Paako. I’ll tell Mama you’re busy! She’ll understand!” The sleek head retreats back inside the building like a devious turtle into its shell.

“Jeez, you can’t get a minute alone!” Paako fumes. “I’ll punch their nosy noses into their asses, I swear I will!”

“Not if I get to ‘em first,” Tsukuyo says grimly. 

“Oi oi, that sounds pretty ominous, lady.”

“Ya just said—!” Tsukuyo sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’m no good at this. You suck. Yer a pain.”

“I _could_ be a pain in—”

“Shut up!! I’m leavin’!”

“Wait, what? Wait!” Paako catches her by the sleeve. “I was just joking!”

“An’ I was just leavin’.”

“But—”

“Shut up,” Tsukuyo repeats. “You got work to do. They’re gonna keep interrupting us. This ain’t no place for...well. Uh. You know. And we...we should probably talk this out.” 

Paako’s hand falls back to her side. “Ah.”

“I’ll..” Tsukuyo coughs, feeling with embarrassment that another blush is building up in her cheeks. “I’ll see ya tomorrow?”

When she looks back, Paako is smiling in a way that makes her breath leave her lungs. She still feels the warmth of another hand in her own, lingering like the sweetness of chocolate, lingering like red eyes on the bright moon in the bright sky.

Paako says, “I think you will.”

* * *

Tsukuyo meets Gintoki in the bright, soft air of the morning. He has dark purple bags under his eyes and half-heartedly removed mascara leftover from a night’s work. Her ribcage pulses with warmth.

She smiles at him and feels like the most beautiful woman in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> ho ho ho! merry valentine's day!
> 
> (zurako: i was on standby the whole time during the confession)


End file.
